A drop in the Bucket
by Tsume Yuki
Summary: All Harry knew, was that Thomas had saved him from another Harry Hunting. He wasn't expecting to become such good friends with the boy, nor was he expecting them to bond over their ability to speak to snakes. It just sort of happened. Slytherin Harry


**A drop in the Bucket  
**_And it all overflowed_

**0-****1**

* * *

Twisting as he raced around the brick walls of their primary school, Harry James Potter puffed out another breath, drawing in as much air as he could not a moment after. He kept pushing his legs forwards, feeling slightly shaky at the thought of stopping. Or maybe it was because he'd only been allowed a single egg, cold and over-cooked, for breakfast.

School exams were coming up, fast, and Dudley less and less tolerable with the more pressure that the teachers applied to him. It wasn't that much of a shock really, the boy was a menace and his parents didn't help; they all seemed to think Harry was at fault for the boy's, inadvertently, bad grades.

So focused on the punishment he'd probably get at the end of the term when Dudley once again tanked in his exams, Harry never noticed the body on the other side of the corner, not until he ploughed straight into it.

Letting out a startled gasp as he went down, Harry winced as his wrist met the paved ground beneath him. Yep, that was without doubt a sprain. Wonderful.

"What do you think you're doing?"  
Harry looked up into the icy cold, dark blue eyes of the new boy. The boy who he had all but run over in his attempt to get away from Dudley.

Dudley!

.

Harry shot to his feet, but it wasn't fast enough. His cousin caught him by the back of his oversized jumper, letting out a victorious yell as his little gang cheered around him. Harry squirmed, cursing the fact he'd buttoned up the shirt's collar. Otherwise, he might have been able to wiggle out of it and free himself. For another five minutes before he was caught again perhaps.

"Your freaky tricks won't save you this time," Dudley hissed, dragging him back towards the secluded spot that was designated for the celebration of a successful Harry Hunting. Normally, Harry would walk away from those 'parties' with more than a handful of bruises.

"Put him down."

Shockingly, it took Harry a moment to realize it wasn't a teacher that'd spoken those stern words, but was in fact, the new boy. The boy's eyes were almost black now; Harry had only been able to see the blue sheen because he'd been so close-up before. Even though he'd been thrown to the ground, very little about his appearance was ruffled; his hair was still the neat, crisp half curls he'd been sporting that morning, uniform neatly pressed, if a little shabby around the edges.

Harry wished he'd paid more attention when their teacher had introduced him, because then maybe he'd know this boy's name. He looked so casual, completely at ease with the situation, as if he weren't ordering the school-yard bully to drop his latest catch. It was only the icy tone, the undercurrent of anger that seemed to crackle through the air, that let Harry know just how serious this boy was.

"You and what army?" Dudley growled back, jerking on Harry's jumper as if to empathise his prize. That was all the words that left, because the next thing Harry heard was an almighty crack and his cousin howl in pain.

.

Scrambling backwards, Harry took quick stock of Dudley and instantly noticed what was wrong. The fact Dudley wore shorts now that it was spring accounted for this, because he could see that the boy's right shin bone was clearly no longer perfectly straight.

That was what that almighty crack had been.

Dudley's shin bone. Breaking.

In half.

.

As Dudley's gang attended to their leader, the new boy had grabbed Harry by the arm, dragging him around the side of the school before dropping his limb like it burned. Arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, the boy stared down at him.

"You're magic, like me."

Harry went to protest, but the words died on his lips. How else could he explain what had just happened? How could they explain the strange happening around him? It was one thing for Uncle Vernon to deny it all, but another thing entirely for another person to state it, so certain. This new boy had just broke Dudley's leg because he hadn't let go of Harry. And he hadn't even touched him.

There was no other explanation.

"I've never met anyone else like me before, I thought I was the only one. But I can feel the magic around you, we're the same, you and I." Throughout his speech, the boy's dark blue eyes had lit up with a sense of joy. Maybe even acceptance and belonging.

Harry didn't know what to think, but he knew the boy was like him. He could feel it, some form of crackling energy surrounded him, sharp and vicious. It reminded him of lightning. And as he felt for it, he could feel his own energy -magic, if the boy was to believed- like a warm pool of lava nestled behind his stomach.

"What's your name? I'm Thomas Ridding." A hand was held out before his face and Harry blinked slowly, before hesitantly placing his hand with Tom's.

"Harry Potter."

* * *

It may have only been a short four months, but from that day in February, Harry and Tom were hardly seen apart. The two became fast friends, with very little opposition. Dudley only attempted to bother Harry once more, back when his leg had finished healing. Tom had only had to give the boy a look, a look of pure venom, and he'd all but fled the playground.

Tom -though by god, did the boy hate being called Tom. Harry was never making that mistake again, even if he referred to his friend by that name in his head- had helped him in regards to his magic, and Harry had some form of control over it now. It was shaky, but, there was control present, so he wasn't going to argue. It wasn't until a school trip to the zoo that Harry found out he could talk to snakes, and that Tom could too.

He'd learnt a little about Tom's home life too, but not before sharing his own. Tom was an orphan, much like he was. He'd been found upon the doorstep of an orphanage at two, though there were blurry memories of a soft spoken person, all Tom had ever known beyond that was the orphanage. He'd been kicked out his old school, a catholic one, because he was possessed by 'Satan'. Or, so the priest had said.  
Tom had laughed it off, but Harry could see the slight flinch that came with the words, the way he almost absent-mindedly went to rub at his shoulder before forcibly stopping himself.

Harry had looked up the world 'exorcism' in the dictionary, and it didn't sound good.

Tom was determined to get into a highly influential job and sort out the child-care system for orphans, and then he was going to become the Prime-minster and sort out England.

"Of course, you can be my coffee-boy I guess," Tom had murmured jokingly, smiling and running a hand through his hair. It was those actions that had all the girl's in their year staring dreamily after the dark haired boy.  
Harry could sort of see why.

Tom, even though he as an orphan, didn't look uncared for. His hair was neat and orderly, his face was often described as 'handsome'. The eyes and the acting ability, the oh so charming smile he pulled off when he was lying to your face through his teeth, it all added together to make a boy all the girl's loved. Tom was tall too, perhaps the tallest in their year, a good four or five inches taller than Harry himself. But Harry didn't mind.

Tom was smart, and helped him cultivate his own intelligence. Even if he knew that, for now, Harry couldn't show how smart he was for fear of ruining his home-life completely, the taller boy was determined to have him as his right hand man.  
And that meant being smart.

Of course, their master plan was soon forgotten by summer upon the arrival of two letters.

* * *

**I'm not even going to appologise, the idea was there.  
**

**Tsume  
xxx**


End file.
